


Running out of time

by FuryBeam136



Series: Whumptober 2020 but bad [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Naga is only mentioned, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryBeam136/pseuds/FuryBeam136
Summary: Whumptober day 4Prompt: Caged |Buried alive| Collapsed building
Series: Whumptober 2020 but bad [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951480
Kudos: 7





	Running out of time

Falling happens all at once, and yet it takes an eternity.

They can’t really remember the in between, only the beginning and the end. There was the flash of lightning and the roar of thunder and despair rose on great black wings and breathed ruin across the earth, and something happened between then and now. Something they can’t remember.

It occurs to them the great black wings were theirs. It was their breath that scattered stone and brick like it was nothing more than dust to be blown on the wind. But they can’t seem to recall the doing. They recall the rising, the surge of power, and they recall the falling.

Around them is packed dirt. The loose sands of the desert are what they have always known. They have not slumbered beneath packed dirt and wet soil, only dry sands and loose dust. So they are beneath _her_ soil. Their body will wither and decay, and nourish the sacred greenery the humans above hold so dear.

They cannot even open their great maw to roar at the injustice of it all. It wasn’t their fault they were given the harsh, dry dunes of the desert to rule over. It wasn’t their fault that she got the lush, living green. They growl, a deep, low rumble in their throat. Their time is up, once again. They will not have another chance, this time. Their vessel has been destroyed.

Their vessel. Carefully crafted, elegant, but unassuming. The girl was supposed to know her destiny. She was supposed to embrace them, to soar on the wings of despair and exhale the breath of ruin. She was supposed to be the perfect vessel for the Fell Dragon, but that holy little pet of the Divine Dragon ruined everything. Naga always ruins everything.

With the last of their strength, Grima howls her name. Naga. Divine and holy and bright, the light of angels and humanity. And Grima, cast eternally to her shadow, revered her. The Fell Dragon was not made to be gentle or kind. They did not have a form that struck awe into humans with its beauty. No, when humans saw Grima, they were struck with fear in its most primal, vicious form. And they have always resented that.

Time is up for them, and this time there will be no perfect vessel to save them.

In the depths of Naga’s holy soil, Grima closes their eyes for the last time.


End file.
